


I Get Ready, I Get All Dressed Up

by smoulderandbraids



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fantasy Fulfillment, M/M, Sexual Fantasy, Spreadsheets, Taxes, Under-Desk Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 16:07:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19232479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoulderandbraids/pseuds/smoulderandbraids
Summary: When David asked Patrick about his bedroom fantasies, these weren't the sheets he was expecting. Spreadsheets? What's the thread count on those?ORPatrick is stressed over small business taxes. David helps.





	I Get Ready, I Get All Dressed Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xoxxblitz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoxxblitz/gifts).



The thing is, Patrick prides himself on making responsible financial choices for the store. It’s a great concept and Patrick wants it to succeed. He wants that for David and for them. So he’s careful with their accounting and files their small business taxes quarterly as recommended by the Canadian Revenue Agency, even though it’s a pain in the ass. Three months goes by faster than you’d ever believe. But Patrick does it, so that he’s never stuck scrambling at the last minute to make a spreadsheet behave in the face of a looming financial deadline. Which is precisely what he’s doing now.

He looks up when he hears David’s key in the apartment door. He needs to keep working, but David coming home to him is still a warm, glowy novelty and he knows from experience it makes for a good break.

“You would not believe the line at the cafe,” David says, instead of hello, sweeping off his sunglasses and setting down a paper bag filled with what Patrick assumes is takeout. “I got you a tea though. Extra strength.”

“You think I’ll need it?”

David sighs and drifts closer to Patrick’s desk, clutching Patrick’s tea and his own coffee. “I guess I’m sorry I found all those vendor receipts from November this morning and never filed them properly to begin with.”

“You guess?” Patrick says.

“Well I did find them.” David says, in a tone Patrick suspects David might think is apologetic, but really doesn’t cut it. 

“Two days before the end of year deadline.” Patrick reminds him.

David has the good manners to look genuinely apologetic as he hands Patrick his tea and sits sideways in his lap. “I’m very lucky to have you, I know.”

Patrick takes a sip and sets the cup down. He sinks down into his chair a little, spreads his legs a bit wider to better balance David on his thighs. “It’s just too bad I have to be here, re-doing our taxes that I thought were finished weeks ago, instead of figuring out how to get you out of this number.”

David’s wearing something Patrick might call a [suit](https://cloutierremix.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/04/DL-Bello-Mag_Page_06.jpg), but it looks all silky and is so exquisitely tailored it’s bordering on indecent. It’s dove grey, but just as striking as David’s usual black and white looks. Patrick has to remind himself not to reach for what he’s sure are hidden buttons under the placket of David’s crisp, white shirt and dark tie. As much as he wants to, he really shouldn’t. If he gets these calculations done tonight then tomorrow morning when it’s Sunday and they don’t open until eleven anyways, he can keep David in bed as long as he likes without having to worry about owing back taxes or not getting their projected refund.

“This is a business casual look,” David informs him, smoothing the line of Patrick’s collar and resting his hands on Patrick’s shoulders. 

“For what, a GQ model interview?” He settles his arms around David’s waist, careful not to crush the fabric of his jacket.

“They’re called castings,” David says, like Patrick would have any reason to know this. “And I’ve never seen a model wear a suit to one.”

“You could be the first.”

David laughs and leans down to kiss him. It’s playful and sweet and David’s thumb is stroking the back of his neck, right where his hair is starting to get a little long and curl. The touch sends electric little shivers right down Patrick’s spine, makes it hard for him to pull away when David kisses him again, slow and easy, like he could do it for hours. But Patrick doesn’t have hours. He has a very non-romantic deadline. And he can’t ignore it, no matter how tempting it is to do exactly that when David tucks his face into Patrick’s neck and presses a kiss just under his ear.

“I should tell you to go sit somewhere else and stop distracting me,” Patrick says. It sounds half-hearted, even to his own ears. He doesn’t move his hands from their home on David's waist.

David hmms and kisses a centimetre further down Patrick’s neck, like he’s trying to find the thinnest skin, the soft place that will make Patrick forget about everything that isn’t David’s mouth. Patrick tilts his head a little in what he knows is self-sabotage. David is warm and solid in his lap and Patrick can feel himself getting hot all over. The last thing Patrick wants is him to go sit somewhere else.

“David, I need you to stop. Just for a minute.”

David pulls back and looks down at him thoughtfully, running a hand through Patrick’s hair. “You look stressed. You’re not going to get anything done like this.”

His hands are kneading the tense muscles in Patrick’s shoulders and Patrick makes his decision. David’s right, he’s not getting any more work done tonight. Not while there are more pressing matters.

“You should let me help you.” David says. “The whole thing is kind of my fault.”

“I’m the numbers guy.” Patrick says, ignoring the _kind of_ and sliding his hands down David’s waist to the curve of his ass. “Did you learn Excel when I wasn’t looking?”

“I don’t mean with the numbers. I can help you relax.” David says, trailing a hand down Patrick’s chest and stopping unmistakably at his belt. Patrick is half hard already from David in his lap and the making out and this is a clear and welcome invitation.

“You might be able to help me with that,” Patrick says, purposefully pitching his voice low enough that David has to lean in even closer to him to hear.

David grins and kisses him again, quick, before standing and taking off his perfectly tailored jacket. It takes him a moment to slip off the fitted sleeves and Patrick leans back in his chair, watching the lean lines of David’s body, the careful way he drapes his jacket over the back of Patrick’s chair. Patrick can feel the residual warmth against his shoulders, an echo of where David’s hands were before. It should be grounding, but it just puts Patrick more on edge, at odds with the careful way David settles between his legs. He’s half under the desk like this is something secret, like they aren’t in the privacy of Patrick’s locked apartment.

“You really are tense,” David says, sliding his hands up Patrick’s thighs, making sure to palm Patrick’s cock on his way to unbuckling his belt. “I know that isn't good for your productivity.”

Patrick reaches down to brush the backs of his fingers over the line of David’s cheekbone and thinks about how good David’s going to look with his cock in his mouth. It’s going to be so excellent. David turns his head a fraction and presses a kiss to Patrick’s knuckles. Patrick lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding all in a rush. He pulls his hand away quickly, working at the zipper of his jeans and freeing his erection. He lets out a shaky breath and takes himself in hand, not able to wait any longer. David just looks for a long moment, watches Patrick work himself up needlessly with slow, firm strokes, until he’s biting his own lip and doesn’t know if he can find the words he wants.

David is usually surprisingly efficient about sex. He doesn't have the patience or the heart to tease Patrick, though apparently he’s fine watching Patrick tease himself. Patrick’s gotten used to being the one who makes David wait, the one who savors moments and lets the anticipation build to a breaking point. It’s awful being on the other side of it.

“Is this what this is gonna be like? Me doing all the work like always?” Patrick’s joking, mostly, but his voice comes out rough with desire.

“That’s offensive.” David says, with no real venom behind it. “You’re such a bitch when you’re horny, I always forget.” He sounds fond and Patrick can’t stand it, can’t look away as David wraps his hand over Patrick’s, following the rhythm he’s set and then replacing it with his own when Patrick lets go and lets him, a beat faster and with some kind of wrist action that Patrick thinks should be illegal, makes all his muscles jump.

“You’re so hot for me already,” David says, “And I’ve barely touched you.”

“Yeah, you’re killing me,” Patrick says, “In case you weren’t sure. So much for that help you were offering.” He slouches farther down in his chair, wanting to get closer to David and crowding him a little more under the desk, so he’s half in shadow.

“So sorry about that.”

David sounds like he’s trying to hide a laugh. Patrick can’t quite see, but he’d bet he’s smirking. He would retort, but David is finally taking his cock in his mouth so he thinks better of it.

He cups the back of David’s head with one hand, lacing his fingers through David’s hair and messing it all up. Patrick wants to dishevel him a little, wants David to look as rough around the edges as Patrick feels. He lets himself relax as David takes him in deeper, panting a little when David presses the flat of his tongue against the underside of his cock, still moving in rhythm with his hand, slick and easy. It’s nice that David knows what he likes, knows exactly how to press Patrick’s buttons and give him just what he’s after.

David pulls off delicately, switching to a slower, lighter touch and keeping a grounding hand firm on Patrick’s thigh.

“You can fuck my mouth,” he says, like he wants Patrick to do it, wants it badly enough to ask him for it. He doesn’t wait for a response, bending his head to press an open mouthed kiss to the head of Patrick’s cock, sucking almost too gently and sliding his hand up Patrick’s thigh to play with his balls. “I want you to make me take it.”

Patrick tightens his fingers in David’s hair.

“Fuck, David, stop. I can’t—I can’t see you.” Patrick pushes his chair away from the desk until he can see David’s face properly, can see how dark his eyes are and how his hair is exactly as disheveled as Patrick hoped.

“Fuck,” Patrick says again, rubbing a hand over his face. “Sorry.”

David rests his palms on Patrick’s thighs. “It’s okay. Isn’t it what you wanted though? Like we talked about? I put the rug down under the desk and everything.”

One night over dinner and possibly too much wine, David had asked Patrick about fantasies, stating that this was important ground for an engaged couple to cover. Patrick was caught off guard, hadn’t been expecting the question, and did a truly terrible job of trying to change the topic. Which just tipped David off that he definitely had struck gold and couldn’t leave it alone until Patrick spilled. He’d started guessing, since Patrick wouldn’t say, listing off a bunch of scenarios ranging in Patrick’s mind from _kind of hot_ to _oh god no_.

Patrick’s had an under-the-desk office blowjob fantasy since forever ago, since he last worked in an office, since before he moved towns and uprooted his entire life. He thinks it might be a souvenir from business school, from being twenty-one and horny all the time and interning thanklessly. Somehow in all the times he’s imagined it and even through answering the many questions David had asked to tease all the details out of him, he never realized he wouldn’t be able to see anything under the desk.

“I know, it’s exactly what I wanted. I loved it.” Patrick says. “But I can’t see you enough and you’re wearing all your clothes still and I want to fuck you in our bed more. I want _you_.”

David stands up, taking Patrick’s hands and pulling him up too. He kisses Patrick soundly and walks him back towards the bed, pulling Patrick’s shirt from his jeans as he goes.

“So.” David says, moving an arm’s length away and unbuttoning his own shirt, “You hit pause on your own dirty fantasy because you love me so much and wanted to see my face?”

“Yes.” Patrick says, stepping out of his jeans and shrugging his shirt off. He pushes the covers to the end of the bed and sits, waits for David to finish undressing and come to him, settling in Patrick’s lap, naked and everything Patrick wants.

“Hi,” David says, nuzzling into Patrick’s neck, mouthing the line of his collarbone.

Patrick palms David’s ass firmly, sliding two fingers over to rub at his hole. David’s already a little open and unexpectedly slippery with lube. Patrick’s surprised, but happy to continue whatever David clearly started without him.

“You got yourself ready for me?” He presses a fingertip just inside David, trying to gauge how much more lube he’s going to need.

“Yeah,” David says, passing Patrick the lube from the nightstand. “I fingered myself in the bathroom earlier. I thought you might like it.”

“You thought blowing me would get me so wound up I’d have to fuck you instead?” Patrick asks, bringing his wet fingers to David’s hole and giving him one, sliding in and out shallowly. He pictures David doing this to himself in the bathroom, carefully and quietly so Patrick wouldn’t know. David walked over to the cafe like this and waited in line, all wet and ready for Patrick and probably thinking about getting fucked the entire time.

“I thought you’d like the option.” David says, voice tense with the effort of trying to hold back from fucking himself on Patrick’s fingers. “I’d like it very much if you took advantage of my generous planning.”

Patrick wraps his free hand around David’s hip, holding him still and steady as he presses in deep and fucks David with two, watching the way David melts into it, stroking his own cock in time with the thrust of Patrick’s fingers. “Were you thinking about this earlier, honey?” Patrick asks. “Were you standing in line in the cafe thinking about how ready you were and hoping I’d fuck you good later?”

“Yeah,” David says, arching his back and tilting his hips for more. “The whole time I was blowing you I was thinking about you bending me over the desk, taking what you wanted.”

“Fuck, David.” Patrick slips his fingers out of David and lines up his cock, “You can’t just say shit like that.”

“Mmmmm, I did though.”

David sinks down on him slowly, holding onto the bed frame above Patrick's head for balance and rocking his hips, taking it beautifully and closing his eyes for a moment when he finds the perfect angle. Patrick can see the pleasure hit him, can feel it as all of David’s muscles relax for a second before tightening up around him deliciously, begging for it again. Patrick brings both his hands to David’s hips and fucks up into him hard, careful to keep that angle that makes David moan every time Patrick slams home.

David’s cock is thick and curving up towards his belly, the head glossy with pre-come. Patrick wants to make David come on his cock, wants to see him lose control and feel him everywhere.

“You look so gorgeous, honey. Fuck. I want to see you touch yourself, want you to make yourself come for me.”

“Yeah,” David says, breathy and soft and Patrick loves him so much, wants to give him everything. David drops a hand to Patrick’s chest, taking himself in hand and stroking fast, fucking into his own grip and back on Patrick’s cock. It’s mesmerizing and Patrick has to bite his lip to hold on, to not fucking lose it right then and there as he feels David’s legs start to shake at his sides and his hips jerk faster. He slaps David’s ass and David swears, loudly, and comes with Patrick’s name in his mouth, getting impossibly tight around him and shuddering like his whole body is trying to cope. Patrick can’t help but be drawn into it, gripping David’s ass hard enough to leave fingerprints and thrusting into him with all the strength he has left. He comes hard enough that it hurts a little and his ears are ringing when he opens his eyes again. David is slumped on top of him, totally relaxed and boneless with his face in Patrick’s shoulder. He strokes the long line of David’s back gently and moves his hips a little, oversensitive. David squirms the tiniest amount, which is not especially helpful, but god knows David’s given him enough today.

Patrick shifts up the bed, propping himself up against the pillows so he’s half sitting up and gathers David forward to him so he can slip out. Patrick’s abs are a sticky mess, but he couldn’t care less right now

David sighs, contently, and sits up a little in Patrick’s lap, still straddling him, so he can look at Patrick’s face. “You’re smiling,” David says. “How do you even have the energy to smile right now? I want to sleep for a week.”

“Who’s going to do the inventory if you sleep for a week?” Patrick says, but it comes out all tender and broken and he has to take David’s face in his hands and kiss him softly, one kiss turning into two and three until it’s so lazy it’s hardly a kiss at all, just breathing each other’s air. David tips back eventually, half-rolling half-falling off of Patrick and snuggles into his much less sticky side instead. He catches a glimpse of the bedside clock on Patrick’s nightstand and sighs again.

“It’s not even seven. Am I supposed to like, get up and do things and eat dinner now? That’s definitely not happening.”

“Too sore?” Patrick asks, just to be a dick. He smiles when David swats his side lazily, without the energy to even take his hand back after, leaving it resting on Patrick’s ribs. Patrick meant it to be a joke, but he wants to know now, wants the satisfaction of knowing just how thoroughly fucked David is.

“Turn over?” He asks, softly, and David does, too postcoital and mellow to care. He lies on his stomach and pillows his head on his arms, giving Patrick a perfect view of his back and the swell of his ass, still a bit pink from the smack and where Patrick dug his fingertips in. Patrick slides a hand down his spine, warm and steady, and brushes his thumb over David’s hole. David shifts slightly, but he doesn’t pull away or give any sign of discomfort. He’s slick and messy with lube and Patrick’s come and Patrick can’t resist pressing his thumb in a little, just to feel how easy it is, how he gets to do this as much as he wants and his husband loves him for it. Patrick thinks not for the first time that not having to worry about condoms is truly one of the best benefits of marriage. Beats the tax credit hands down.

He presses a kiss to the dimple in David’s lower back and draws the covers up over David so he doesn't get chilly.

“Who taught you all this?” David says, face still pillowed in his arms, like he’s asking the universe at large to explain why Patrick knows how to spoil him with mind-blowing sex.

“You, mostly.” Patrick kisses David’s shoulder. “Sleep for as long as you want, honey. I’m going to clean up and find something edible. I’ll save you some”

“Mostly.” David grumbles.

Patrick grins quietly to himself and heads to the shower.

 

* * *

 

 An hour later they’re both showered and back in bed leaning up against the headboard and each other, eating the grilled cheeses and roasted veggies Patrick made in the twenty minutes David was in the shower.

“So is this what happens when you repress your sexuality for years?” David asks, clearly teasing. “Weird vanilla fantasies?”

“It’s a forbidden workplace situation.” Patrick says

“Right,” David says, drawing out the _t_. “So scandalous. It’s almost as bad as seducing your business partner into marrying you. Since we’re discussing forbidden workplace situations and all.”

“Take it up with HR.” Patrick says, trying and failing not to smile as he rests an arm around David’s shoulders, tucking him closer into his side.

“What were you even looking at on there?” David nods in the direction of Patrick’s laptop, still open on the desk. 

“Next quarter’s taxes.” Patrick knows it’s a painfully responsible answer. “I wanted it to be realistic.”

“That’s disgusting,” David says, fond and amused. “Such dedication to the role. Just when I thought I couldn’t love you more.”

Patrick catches David’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together and kissing the back of his hand, just past his rings. “I’ll bend you over the desk next time, I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks as always to tumblr user feelsfictional for betaing and also for writing the excellent summary line about spreadsheets.


End file.
